


I Think Of You

by orphan_account



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Awkward Love Confessions, Based on a Tumblr Post, Clay keeps a sketchbook, Clay likes to draw, Clay thinks he is straight, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild Smut, Tony can make anyone gay tho, Tony gets frustrated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:55:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Hannah Baker died, Clay's world was flipped upside down without his consent. Clay needed something other to do than sob over Hannah's death, so why not rekindle his old passion for drawing?OrClay draws Tony obsessively, and starts questioning his sexuality. He's pretty sure Tony can make anyone gay.





	I Think Of You

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a Tumblr post like this and it just clicked, so I spend my whole weekend writing about it.

Clay woke up with a jolt, his heartbeat pounding in his ears as blood rushed down his body and left goosebumps in it's wake.

  
\-------

  
He placed a hand over his heaving chest, trying to steady his breathing and calm his heart. He didn't even remember the nightmare, but he wouldn't be surprised if it was about Hannah, again. She had become a reoccurring topic in his nightmares, her death tainting any hopes of Clay ever getting a peaceful sleep anytime soon. Clay closed his eyes and exhaled as he tried to erase the fear from his body. His nerves felt jittery and he highly doubted he would be able to return to sleep. He tried desperately, anyway. Clay tossed and turned until he let out a groan of defeat. Eye bags it was for him, then.

He crawled out of his bed and reached for a small notebook and flipped to the next open page, relishing the sound of the crisp paper and the look of the completely blank page with the sliver of moonlight illuminating it. Clay grabbed a random pencil, not caring that he was probably going to lose it as soon as he put the pencil down again. Drawing in the tiny sketchbook had become a habit of his without him even knowing it.

He always drew one person in particular: Tony Padilla. Clay didn't know why but his best friend had became a favorite for him to draw. Everything about the other boy was intriguing in Clay's mind, down to each individual tattoo. He was set on drawing Tony perfectly and capturing his essence on the paper. He had his eyes down cold, the light green hue permanently documented in his brain. Next was Tony's hair, always flawless due to the amount of gel he added in every morning. Clay loved the way it looked none the less and loved the way he could swirl the pencil as he drew it. Clay flipped back a few pages where he had drawn every single one of Tony's tattoos that he knew of, completely from memory even if they did look like shit. Clay didn't really know how to draw flowers or wolves, so they just ended up looking like blobs. Clay chuckled as he looked at it, the negative feelings from the nightmares now temporarily forgotten in the midst of him flipping through old drawings.

Drawing had become his release. His handwriting was never that good, so Clay didn't even bother trying to write down his feelings in darkness, when the only light was the moon streaming in through his window. He had settled for drawing, an old hobby he had dropped back in middle-school. Clay had always been quiet so he would always draw little doodles on the corners of his papers to express his emotions instead of saying them out loud. He had quickly dropped the little hobby in fear that someone would find out about it, but after Hannah died Clay was lost. Everything he had ever known had been flipped upside down, and he didn't know what to do. He needed something to do other than sob, so why not just rekindle his "passion" for drawing? Besides, he wholeheartedly enjoyed drawing and he hadn't realized how much he missed it until after he started drawing again.

He didn't even need the moonlight anymore, he could practically feel the drawings being created from beneath his fingertips. The need for creation hummed beneath Clay's fingertips as he drew more and more. The only thing he needed while drawing was the steady scratching of the pencil against rough paper to keep him going.

Clay never questioned why he drew Tony so often, especially after he had chilling nightmares. The only excuse he could come up with was that drawing Tony soothed Clay in a way, as if his presence could automatically calm Clay down even if Tony was just in drawing form. He didn't want to wake Tony up at three am even if Clay already knew that the other boy was up, so he just settled for drawing him. Besides, the drawings were completely platonic in Clay's eyes. The two had been best friends for years. Maybe it was just a little suspicious that he always drew Tony, and that he haven't even thought about drawing Hannah or any of his other friends like Skye, but he never thought much of it. Clay was Clay and Tony was Tony, it wasn't like anything was going to happen between them. They were practically polar opposites in a way, and sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what miracle had brought Tony Padilla, with his multitude of tattoos and leather jacket, into his life. There's no way someone who looked like they were ready to jump back into a 1950s movie would ever have eyes for a skinny white guy, even if they were best friends. At least, that's what Clay told himself.

Clay exhaled and closed the sketchbook. He placed it on the foot of his bed and turned to his phone. It was too dark out to draw and he didn't want to wake his parents, so scrolling aimlessly on the internet it was. He sucked in breath when he saw two messages from Tony pop up, from only five minutes ago. Clay felt his cheeks heat up slightly as he questioned whether or not Tony had known he was awake before reading the texts.

 _Unhelpful Yoda: hey, are you awake?_  
_Unhelpful Yoda: can I come over real quick?_

Clay furrowed his brows as he read over the messages. He allowed a wave of concern to wash over him as he responded.

 _You: Yeah of course! Come through the window but be quiet, though._  
_You: Is everything ok?_

Clay watched as three dots popped up and then disappeared quickly. He tried not to feel the slightest bit disappointed as he shut off his phone and put it to sleep, silently waiting for Tony to arrive. It was usually Clay that asked Tony to come over, so this was very new to him. Despite that, Clay was determined to be there for Tony just as Tony had been there for Clay on multiple occasions. He felt panic bubble up from beneath his skin when he laid eyes on his drawing sketchbook which was still sitting idly on the foot of his bed. He shared everything with Tony, and he wouldn't be surprised if he eventually came clean about all the drawings of him, but he just wasn't ready to tell him now. Clay hastily ignored how the gentle thump of his heartbeat quickened slightly at the thought of him sharing the drawings with Tony, and Tony praising him and cherishing them. He instead kicked the sketchbook to the ground, immediately feeling guilty as he watched it thunk on the ground and disappear into the shadows. He internally apologized to the book before he heard loud tapping emitting from the window, prompting him to slink over and open it.

Clay was met with a very worn out Tony Padilla, his eyes framed with eye bags and rimmed with red, as though the boy had been crying. Not to mention the lines of regret that were etched around his eyes that eventually melted into the eye bags. Clay felt a tug at his heartstrings as he examined the other boy thoroughly and ushered Tony onto the bed with him. They sat there for a moment in silence, examining each other as both of them both got more worried for the other. Clay was aware that he probably looked like shit after his nightmare, and that hot tears from it were still rolling off his cheeks since he hadn't wiped them off. What he didn't know was how it scared the shit out of Tony to see Clay so drained, but he eventually caught on after Tony's features gradually got more worried as he stared at the other boy in the moonlight.

"Were you crying?" Tony said softly, scooting a little bit closer and wiping away some of Clay's leftover hot tears, before pulling his hand away as though he had done it without even thinking and immediately regretted it. He looked scared almost, even though he was the one who had touched Clay's face. Clay shot Tony a confused expression for a split second, ignoring the way his heart sunk when Tony pulled away.

"Were you crying?" Clay shot back, roaming his eyes over Tony's almost defeated looking form. "You asked to come over at like three a.m., is everything okay?"

The other boy froze at the question, shifting awkwardly. He stared into Clay's blue eyes, looking as if he was contemplating really telling him. Minutes flew by, and it ended up just being a silent staring contest before Clay let out a defeated huff and broke eyes contact. He placed a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but just know that I care, ok? It's fine if you don't trust me," Clay said finally. Tony just furrowed his eyebrows, and shook his head.

"Of course I trust you, Clay, you're my best friend."

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's- It's really not that important."

Clay cocked an eyebrow in response, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he shot Tony an unbelieving glance. "Surely if you come over to my house looking as if someone had just murdered your puppy, something's wrong," he joked as he watched Tony smile genuinely for a split second before it melted back into a neutral expression. Clay tried to push down the warm feeling that blossomed inside of him when he saw Tony genuinely smile, all because of him.

"I just don't want you to think it's your fault," Tony admitted quietly as his voice trailed off. Tony's voice wasn't smooth and strong like it usually was, which worried Clay. It was soft and questioning, and it wavered in the beginning of the sentence as if Tony was only speaking to himself and not to Clay. He had started fumbling with the bedsheets, not meeting Clay's gaze. That was probably for the best due to Clay having the most dumbfounded look on his face.

"Is it about Hannah?" Clay whispered, as though saying the name Hannah was some type of curse word that he was afraid to say. In a way, he was afraid to say Hannah's name sometimes due to all the memories and hurt she left behind. Just saying her name could resurface a whole tidal wave of unpleasant memories Clay didn't even know existed before the tapes.

Tony shook his head frantically, ghosting his hand over Clay's. His hand just stayed there and hovered over Clay's, as if Clay was made of porcelain and too delicate to completely touch. "It's not about Hannah. I would always tell you if it was about Hannah, Clay."

Clay let out a small smile and scooted towards the middle of the bed. He had decided on thinking that Tony's problem had to do with his family, so Clay didn't push him anymore to tell. He was well aware that Tony's family was very different than Clay's, and he respected that and what Tony was comfortable or uncomfortable with telling him. That's what friends are for, right?

Clay let out a small hum in agreement at the statement, signifying that he would do the same for Tony as he laid down on the side of the bed. He watched as Tony shifted awkwardly, staring at him uncomfortably. Clay just shot him a confused look. The two had probably slept next to each other thousands of times when they were younger, why was it any different?

"Are you going to lay down?" Clay asked, pointing to the empty spot next to him on the bed lazily. Tony let out an awkward chuckle.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep on the floor, if that's ok with you. Thanks though," Tony rasped as he got off the bed. Clay jolted up immediately, his throat tightening. He had left the sketchbook on the ground, and his mind was swimming with possibilities if Tony found it. If the other boy was uncomfortable with just sleeping next to Clay, how would he feel if he found an entire sketchbook filled with realistic and cartoon drawings of him and only him?

Of course, begging Tony to sleep with him on the bed would only make things ten times weirder and awkward. Clay gently bit his lip as he mulled over what to do. He eventually took the latter, because in his defense, the sketchbook was kicked into the shadows and basically out of sight.

"That's ok. I'm just going to get you a blanket, ok?" Clay forced out, sending Tony a small smile as he bolted out the door and downstairs. He tried to erase all fear of Tony finding the sketchbook while he was alone in his room, because he the tiniest sliver of hope that it was well hidden despite just being lazily tossed onto the floor. Clay tiptoed around his house, searching for a blanket despite it just being an excuse. If Tony did find the sketchbook, Clay really didn't want to be there to see Tony's reaction.

The blue-eyed boy was actually contemplating just passing out on the couch and leaving the bedroom all to Tony before he found a stray white blanket. Clay let his curiosity get the best of him as he wondered what Tony would say about the drawings. Clay caved in to the yearning for feedback from Tony if he had found the sketchbook. He jogged upstairs, skipping steps in desperation to get to his bedroom. Maybe Tony hadn't found the sketchbook yet, and Clay could save himself from the eternal embarrassment and disappointment if Tony didn't like what he saw and thought his drawings were horrible.

With the blanket in hand Clay grasped the doorknob and lightly swung the door open. His heart stopped beating and heat immediately rushed to his face when he saw Tony hunched over on the bed, flipping through his sketchbook.

_Fuck, too late._

He was squinting to see correctly in the darkness, but he quickly looked up when Clay opened the door. His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the sketchbook on the ground. Clay did the same as he dropped the blanket he was holding on the ground, and stood in the doorway completely frozen.

He was waiting for Tony to say something about how weird it was that the sketchbook was full of drawings of just him and how bad they were. Deep down he knew Tony would never say that and instead pretend like it never happened, but that didn't stop his brain and heart from freaking out. Despite Clay swearing that Tony could hear his hammering heartbeat even from across the room with how hard it was pounding in anticipation, the comments never came. It was utter silence, both boys waiting anxiously for the other to say something.

"Did you draw these?" Tony asked hesitantly, pointing at the book that was now laying on the ground were he had dropped it. Clay just gulped and nodded slowly, sliding onto the bed next to Tony. "They're really good."

Clay looked at him as though he was speaking a different language. No matter how much Clay wanted him to compliment his drawings, he never thought it would actually happen. Clay opened his mouth to respond, but quickly clamped it back shut as soon as it went dry. Tony just looked at him and continued talking.

"I never knew you could draw," Tony admitted, picking up the book and dusting it off carefully. He looked at Clay for permission to keep on looking, and Clay could only nod again. Tony sluggishly flipped through the paper, and let out a small laugh at Clay's attempt of drawing all of his tattoos. Clay's expression immediately melted into a grin when Tony laughed due to the other boy's contagious and beautiful smile when he laughed. Clay quickly sobered up when he realized that he had to say something to Tony instead of sitting next to him like a statue.

"I'm sorry!" Clay blurted out. Tony looked taken aback by his sudden outburst, before cocking an eyebrow at Clay and prompting him to elaborate further. "I know that it must be really weird to find out that your best friend has a sketchbook full of drawings of you when you have a boyfriend."

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I can throw them away if you want," Clay finished, sheepishly looking down at the ground.

"No! Please don't. I like them," Tony said quickly, running his hands over the cover as he closed the book and placed it carefully on the bed. "Don't worry about the boyfriend thing anyway."

Tony let out a chuckle as he finished the sentence, as though it's an inside joke but stopped as soon as he met Clay's confused expression. Tony's mouth made a small 'o' shape as if he remembered something important, and it doesn't fail to make Clay's heart beat a little faster.

"What do you mean?" Clay asked instead of voicing his want to just kiss the other boy right then and there in the midst of the moonlight. He figured that thinking about kissing your best friend isn't the most normal thing to do while he's talking about his boyfriend, so he settles for pushing those yearnings deep inside of him.

"Brad broke up with me this evening," Tony explained quietly, fiddling with the zipper of his leather jacket absentmindedly. Clay immediately placed a hand on Tony's thigh reassuringly, ignoring all thoughts of that being a little too touchy, and gave him an empathic look.

"He's stupid to give someone like you up, Tony. I think you're amazing," Clay said as he smiled warmly at Tony in hopes of making him feel the tiniest bit better. Tony had always been the one to be good at comforting people, while Clay, not so much. The blue-eyed boy could barely comfort himself. This didn't stop Clay from trying to be there for Tony and trying to make him feel happier, because in Clay's world, Tony honestly deserved it.

Tony gave Clay a tight lipped smile in response, but Clay's mind was already bustling with sudden realizations. One of these being that Tony looked unfairly cute when he smiled, and the other being why Tony had originally not wanted to tell Clay. What did he _mean_ when he said that he didn't want Clay to think it was his fault? Why would Clay think that in the first place?

"Why didn't you tell my in the first place?" Clay asked, meeting Tony's eyes as he watched the other boy physically stiffen at the question. "Why would I think it was my fault that you and Brad broke up?"

Tony froze, a slight blush visible despite his tanned complexion. It seemed to be out of embarrassment than anything else. "Brad and I broke up because he thought I was spending a little too much time with you," Tony said cooly, trying desperately to brush off how panicked he looked only seconds before. Clay knew better, though, because Tony's eyes spoke volumes and they still looked as scared as ever. Clay could only wonder if that's what he looked like when Tony found his sketchbook.

"What?" Clay managed to get out. The thought of someone who had been able to win Tony's heart being jealous of him honestly baffled him. "That doesn't make any sense. That's a stupid reason to leave someone as amazing as you, Tony."

"Clay- You know what, fuck it, he was right," Tony said, letting out a huff that bordered on frustration. Clay blinked harshly as he processed what just flew out of Tony's mouth before Tony continued speaking. "I did care about you more than him, and I still do. I'm sick of pretending. I can't do it anymore, at least, not while you're looking at me like I singlehandedly created Earth itself."

Clay felt his throat tighten as he just stared in amazement at Tony, waiting for him to laugh or take back what he just said. There was no way this was happening. Tony was a guy who deserved the whole world, and Clay was positive he could only give him cities. Why on Earth would Tony like him, probably the world's number one fuckup? Even before Hannah died, when Clay looked in the mirror, all he could see was a waste of space. What could Tony see in him that he didn't see in someone as confident as Brad? He just stared dumbly at Tony, his mouth wide open in shock, before the other boy started talking again.

"Do I need to make it anymore clear? I legitimately ditched Brad on our anniversary just to be with you, Clay. You're my weakness and you always will be from where this is going," Tony continued. He looked genuinely pained since Clay was not responding, his eyes full of hurt and anticipation. Just seeing him like that would have made Clay's heart sink if it wasn't beating a mile a minute. "Are you really that oblivious, or do you just not want me?"

Clay's mind kicked into overdrive as the words set in. Of _course_ he wanted Tony. Who wouldn't want Tony? The boy was practically everything anyone ever needed rolled into one perfect package of a human being. He barely had time to think before all he could hear was his mind screaming for him to kiss Tony, his actions worth more than his stuttering words ever could.

Everything became a blur as he smashed his lips against the shorter boy's, pouring every ounce of want that Clay could muster since the day he had started drawing Tony in the sketchbook that now laid forgotten on the bed. Clay panicked for a split second, wondering if he had made the wrong decision, before Tony practically became putty in his hands as he melted against him. Tony kissed back with equally bruising force, pushing Clay's back onto the bed. Clay blinked owlishly at how amazing Tony looked as he panted from lack of air, staring back at Clay as he too processed the sight of Clay beneath him.

They both laid there, panting, before Clay surged up and once again caught Tony's lips on his. He took advantage of how their bodies were flush together and bucked his hips up, earning a sound between a gasp and a groan from the darker boy. 

"Wait- Clay, do you want this?" Tony gasped out, looking at Clay with wide eyes. Clay just let his face morph into a face-splitting grin.

"Duh, Tony. Since when has keeping a sketchbook full of drawings of your hot best friend ever been platonic?"

Tony laughed and reconnected his lips with Clay's as they both smiled into the kiss. Clay almost sighed against his lips as he practically felt the tense atmosphere being replaced by a much more comfortable one.

 _Maybe it's true,_ _opposites really do attract._

**Author's Note:**

> That was a doozy! Sorry for the cliché af ending, I really wanted to make some smut but then I was decided to fuck it and just make it fluffy. 
> 
> Feel free to leave criticism and grammar mistakes, as I couldn't really edit it because I was too excited to post it ;w;


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